


Real Estate

by pinebluffvariant



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, The X-Files Revival
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 14:55:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4750487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinebluffvariant/pseuds/pinebluffvariant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a series of ficlets set post-season 10. Inspired by conversation about Scully and Mulder relocating back to DC and back into the same space.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Timers

Their mortgage guy looks like he belongs in grade school, but she’ll take it. At least someone else other than her will be filling out all the numbers, the mostly redacted history of their financial life together, the assets and debts that matter the absolute least.

Needing to assert himself in front of the elders, the mortgage guy clears his throat and looks up from their paperwork. “I see that… you are not a first time home buyer, Dr. Scully, but you are, Mr. Mulder.”

Mulder, in the plastic chair beside hers, leans back and bounces his leg. His eyes meet hers, glittering and sending her THAT signal, ‘no idea, babe, he’s got no idea.’

Mulder flashes his foxiest grin, which has somehow gotten better with age. “Yes, that’s right. You can see I’ve worked as an independent contractor for many years now. And I used to be a lousy book keeper. Dr. Scully hates clutter so much she decided she’d rather put our former mortgage in her name than deal with my embarrassing shoebox full of 1099s and Starbucks receipts.”

The mortgage guy smiles tightly.

“What can I say, Mike? I’m a lucky guy.”

Scully throws Mulder a roll of her eyes. “Mike, please make sure to put us down as tenants by the entirety.”


	2. The Condo

They look at a condo in Georgetown, eight blocks from her old place. It’s beautiful, steel kitchen and restored floor and a bay window facing one of the old Methodist churches, its gray stone somber in the pre-storm evening light.

She floats through the rooms - two bedrooms, a large bathroom off the master and another one for guests. It suits them, she thinks, two aging night owls with miles of silence between them to knit into a comfortable blanket.

But she can’t shake it. With every step she’s back in her over-furnished walk up down the road. Where she had slept alone for years, where she had scrubbed her sister’s blood out of the hardwood, and later, her own. Where she had refrained from touching him for years, and where she’d demanded nothing less than all his love when it was just the two of them. Where she had lain in silence, her son’s life beating inside her. Where they had struggled for a comfortable position after so many months apart, she - comically large and he - scarred and feral. Where they’d cradled their boy between them in bed. Where he had betrayed her by leaving. Where she had betrayed him by giving their son away.

She stands in front of the bay window, vaguely aware of the realtor talking Mulder’s ear off about schools and amenities. “Please help me,” comes his breath in her ear, as he hugs her to him from behind. Something prods the vertebrae in the back of her neck and she knows it’s his ring. He keeps it on a chain, close to his heart.

“Let’s get out of here, Mulder, there’s too many ghosts.” They leave.


	3. Virginia is for Lovers

The realtor, Bryan, drives them to an open house on the border between Arlington and Alexandria, where unfairly beautiful 30-something gay couples jog unfairly fast with their purebred dogs. Why they took this roundabout route, he doesn’t know, but sure.

“President Obama shopped for Christmas gifts at this Target!” Bryan says excitedly as they pass an upscale strip mall off Route 1.

“Oh my God. Scully.”

“Hmm?” She’s fiddling with her phone, probably emailing work.

He leans in close, out of earshot of Bryan. “Scully, it’s Potomac Yard. The decomissioned rail yard. I used to run here back in the eighties, when I first moved to Alexandria. It’s-”

“It’s where we found Cassandra Spender, that time, after she’d been returned.”

“It’s a mall.”

She clutches his hand, suddenly, and they pass the rest of the ride in silence.

*****

This house is better than anything they’ve seen in DC. Townhouse, two-storey, square footage in the low thousands, with two assigned parking spaces and a small charcoal grill on the back deck. They are the first ones there, and he scopes the place out, using the mental checklist he’ll never admit to having kept since about 1999. A place for her to get away from him, a big enough refrigerator, and a built-in bookcase. Check.

The seller’s agent is hovering, so Mulder heads upstairs and catches Scully at the top of the landing, where she’s sitting in a cozy armchair in the little office nook the current owners use to run their kombucha business, whatever that is. There’s a skylight above her; an addition that’s really popular these days. He knows. He has cable; he watches Love it or List it.

“This is nice,” she says without opening her eyes and he perches on the arm rest. “Do you like it?”

“Let me tell you what I like about it.” He wraps his arm around her shoulder and melts into her discreetly. “I like the kitchen counters, the privacy on the deck, the bathroom vanity - it’s deep and wide which you know I enjoy with all my hair products, obviously - and I also really, really, REALLY like this landing with the skylight. We can put a cozy rug down.”

It takes her a second to catch on. When she does, she shoots him one of those ‘did you just-‘ looks that make him feel fifteen feet tall.

She curls her finger at hime in a come-here motion so he crouches low and close, puts his ear to her mouth.

“I think the light in here is perfect for a honeymoon video.”

Their laughter radiates out into the rooms, filling the unfamiliar space up with memories decades deep.


End file.
